Restaurant review: Fat Git's big date

Our generously proportioned gastronome pulls, just in time for Valentine's Day, and treats his lady to dinner at Bistro Pierre

Published on September 22nd 2010.

THERE'S a lot to be said for having a significant other in your life, and I am not talking about the Fairway.

People often say to me: “Fat Git, get yourself sorted with a woman. You've a lot to offer.” And do you know what? They are right.

Pauline roared loudly, throwing her head back and waving her glass of Chardonnay about. She was proving to be spirited, this one

So I went on Facebook and when it asked me what I was looking for, I definitely said females and I definitely said networking.

I joined a “neighbourhood” and had a bimble around. Blundellsands, even though I don't live there. You would get a better class of girlfriend, one who appreciated fine dining, I reckoned, and if they went dutch, so much the better.

There were one or two fairly fit looking prospects on there, so I poked them. It's not what I thought, and I ended up pressing the wrong button and sending a hot snog to everyone at Barry's Taxis.

I never heard anything back though, so I widened my search out to Litherland, and, hey presto, I met Pauline.

I must have been talking to Pauline on the internet - usually about recipes, the telly and global affairs - for about three months, when she eventually agreed to meet me in the flesh. Now I am a man of ample flesh and ample experience. Pauline, it turned out, was not.

She was a bit shy at first. I was therefore worried we'd have nothing to say to each other, so we went to a quiz at the Phil and won the snowball! £200! It was all about pop songs with the word “sexy” in the title. Now that was definitely an omen for going straight to fourth base!

So I got out my hand held device while I was on the rank, and arranged a Valentine's meal at Bistro Pierre in Button Street.

Now the thing is, Bistro Pierre has always done a cheap deal on Monday. £12.95 for two courses.

I thought, "Why spend good money going on Valentine's night, when I can really push the boat out and get a massive scran for both of us for twenty-five nicker? And, AND, I told her, you get a bottle of wine each. EACH!

Bistro Pierre was bubbling, as was the girlfriend. Pauline likes a drink, and the first thing she said to our waitress (who was a bit gorgeous), was: "You can bring the first bottle now." We hadn't even sat down.

The waitress surveyed us suspiciously. "The Monday night offer is only for students," she sniffed. "Wednesday is our cheap night nowadays."

I have been on incapacity benefit for 15 years, but, in my day, I did pay plenty of taxes. "Unlike students," Pauline roared loudly, throwing her head back and waving her glass of Chardonnay about (£12.95 a bottle). She was proving to be spirited, this one.

We had decided to stay. It was a nice atmosphere even if it was going to cost me, and we were into the starters just minutes after the orders.

This is a French restaurant, so I was frankly surprised to see no food of love ( ie oysters). You probably won't know this, but mussels have got all the same aphrodisiac qualities. They just don't get the media coverage.

I therefore did not hesitate to order a big bowl of moules mariniere (£4.25) for the lady and a stilton salad (£3.75) with toasted pine kernels, spinach and sunblushed tomatoes for the chief.

Pauline's mussels were swimming in white wine, garlic and cream. She thought they were a little bit jelly like, but vigorously scooped them all out of their shells and started telling me how tasty everything was and laughing her head off.

I enjoyed the salad, although why a French restaurant could not have substituted stilton for a good pongy French blue equivalent I did not ponder. Bistro Pierre calls itself “The heart of Paris in the centre of Liverpool” but I've never seen black pudding pate in Paris either, and I have been around Pigalle Place a few times to know.

Still, I wasn't going to argue. It's plenty French enough in spirit and I could see it was working the job on Pauline. I ordered her another bottle, a Cotes du Rhone (£12.95) from an entirely brief and French wine list, and hungrily tucked into my roast duck breast served on a slice of fried french bread with poached apples and a scrumpy sauce (£14.95). I hadn't been asked how I liked my duck, or would have said pink. This was well done, but you probably wouldn't mind. There was a substantial amount, however, and who, honestly, wouldn't put their hand up for good duck?

The accompaniments were in plentiful supply too, especially the apples, and I polished off the lot, including a large side order of fries (£1.75).

Then I leaned back, contemplating Pauline's eager and obvious pleasure as she greedily devoured the wild boar sausage (£9.95) I had ordered for her.

I wondered if she would fancy some afters, so, when she abruptly went to the loo, I took my chance. The sausage was gamey and the spring onion mash spot on, as was the rich onion gravy. A big bowl of nicely cooked mixed veg came on the side. I made short work of that too.

By the time she came sashaying back, clutching the red, it had all been taken away. I knew she wouldn't notice. She demanded profiteroles so I let her have them, covered in piped, whipped cream.

The Bistro Pierre has a sister establishment in Hardman Street called Bistro Jacques which is similarly charming. I went there on a date with a very successful Liverpool businessman who shall remain nameless. It was going very well, we were staring into each other's eyes, when his estranged wife came past with a group of bikers on the way to the Swan. He spotted her and ran out after them. I never saw him again and was left with just a few crumbs and two full bottles of wine.

I have read this review and am looking at the amount of wine this lady appears to have consumed. It is very difficult for me to read this without wanting to go out on a bender right now and I am already eyeing up a bottle of Lynx aftershave that I may or may not consume entirely inappropriately.

To Fat Git, You are in the Liverpool network yet? I think I would like to meet you if your girlfriend not mind. I am a hot Russian lady but my husband has not time for me. I would like to meet an interesting man like you and would let you take me out to all the nice places you need lady for.

Actually, it appears that something else happened to pauline, from what I heard, and I happen to know Git is fairly teetotal because of the cab. But maybe he will give us the lowdown this week or sometime soon. Git?

I suspect that Pauline is being held against her will in the mechanics' pit at Delta garages in Crosby, with several other "bubbly" ladies after Fat Git ordered a stiffener for the road. He will now be on the rank with a sausage dinner from the Blue Star. Watch out Liverpool men: They are your women.

Love conquers all....or does it? We are left with more questions than answers. Fat Git seems determined to leave us suspended, feverish for more, gagging (even) to know the outcome. Despite her initial shyness, the Cote Du Rhone seemed to have the desired effect on Pauline, so much so, her voracious attack of the profiteroles even had Git licking his lips in anticipation. Shyness apart,he doesn't mention her other attributes and left your humble scribe eager for more, but she brought to mind a certain Pauline of note, who in her younger days, despite the suggestion of too much upper lip hair and a laugh like a gattling gun, was the toast of Marsh Lane and beyond. Could it be her? If it is, Git, (not for the first time, I imagine) you've backed a winner, which would then, presumably make this review a Winner's dinner.

Back in the days when this romance stuff was a rollicking lark, the Bistro Pierre was a most fantabulous lunchtime venue for assignations, to spend a couple of hours with a lovely woman (NB: no sexist associations intended), and a place where one could pretend one was scoffing snails in marvellous restaurants hanging loose off Boulevard Saint-Michel. As memory serves, BP was full of rather posh women and chaps who obviously lunched regularly and in those days, before the advent of the alcohol evangelists, would swig back gallons of vino collapso….Ah, me I hear echoes of Maurice Chevalier beckoning...or maybe it isn't....

Thanks for the visit. Next time try Bistro Jacques on Hardman St. as there are no stairs to negotiate....from memory you both rolled down the staircase after "un beaucoup du vin" and landed at the bottom on your "derrieres". For those curious as to what happened next, I'd say that by the "tipsy state" of our valentine love birds, fatgit had more chance of raising the Titanic than anything else! ps. and yes we still do the 3 course lunch every day for only £7.95 aswell as many other offers.....for more info check out http://www.bistropierre.com or www.bistrojacques.com.......once again fat git, thanks for coming......to Bistro Pierre!

Dear Mr Git, I was wondering what was the nature of your disability? Clearly, you have no trouble eating. Perhaps your incapacity is related to your capaciousness? I have an acquaintance in receipt of disability benefit who was parked up in a disabled bay when a rather aggressive traffic warden, eyeing him with suspicion, demanded: "What exactly is your disability?" "Tourettes," my acquaintace replied, "now f*** off."”

What i meant to say was I am still very surprised by what happened to Pauline last week and as I have not heard from her since she went out on her hot date with Fat Git, I am assuming she is either "holed up" with him somewhere or has gone back to her ex husband in Australia.